


Decadent!

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Halloween, M/M, Sexual Content, fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 04:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8432683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: Reluctantly, Suga has had to leave the acquisition of costumes for Tooru's Halloween party to Daichi. With a smirk, Daichi says to 'trust him'. But this is the guy who's worn a Santa costume to every Halloween party since he was seventeen. And then Suga sees a receipt.'Pirates.'He groans. Can he trust Daichi, or are they going to  be the lamest partygoers there?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by some wonderful art work on tumblr. There's a link at the end, so please go and visit the blog and lavish likes and reblogs on the artist. (I'm still blown away!)
> 
> The two songs mentioned in this are 'These Boots Are Made for Walking' by Nancy Sinatra and 'However Do You Want Me' by Soul II Soul

“Halloween party?”

“Mmm, Tooru’s invited us,” Suga said, looking up from his laptop.

Daichi placed two cups of coffee on the table in front of them, sat next to him and peered over his shoulder. “Guess that explains why you’re obsessively checking out at fancy dress online? That’s at least seven tabs you have open.”

“Yeah...” He trailed off, scrolling down the page. “And all seven tabs are full of very boring or downright tacky outfits.”

“I dunno. I’d quite like seeing you in a sexy cat costume.”

“I did that last year.”

“And you can’t wear it again?”Daichi deadpanned, but his lips were twitching.

“Nope.”

“Will _anyone_ remember?”

“You did,” Suga countered.

Peeling his hands off the laptop, Daichi twisted Suga to face him, dropped a kiss on lips, then grinned his lopsided smile. “Because I had a lot of fun afterwards stroking your silver fur.”

“It was black, I was Mr Mistoffelees,” Suga replied, then caught Daichi’s smirk as he slid his thumb under his shirt. “Oh, very funny.” He snuggled a little closer, allowing himself a few moments to luxuriate in Daichi’s kiss and the feel of his fingers as they began to slip further down, fumbling at the button of his jeans.

But, no he had things to do. Wrenching away, he booped Daichi on the nose and ran his fingers down his firm set jaw. “You had more fun than I did extricating you from that revolting Santa beard,” he said. “Which reminds me, you are not wearing that again!”

Raising his hands, Daichi protested, “It’s my thing! Father Christmas crashing Halloween because he gives no fucks.”

“Last year everyone asked me if I had a daddy kink, so no way.”

“I thought you liked my big cuddly tum!” Daichi made his eyes wide and soulful, pouting out his bottom lip.

Suga swatted him then returned to his laptop “When I was eighteen, yes, but I’m twenty-five now, Captain, and it’s a _leetle_ bit tired.”

There was a silence, Daichi shifted away, reached out for his coffee and took a sip. “You still call me Captain. Haven’t been that for a long time,” he said, his tone mild. “Isn’t that tired?”

“Hmm?” Suga clicked on a vampire costume, wondering. Daichi really did suit dark colours, but it was hardly original. He flicked his attention back to Daichi, who’d not yet leant back against the cushions. “Captain is timeless. Just like my glorious love for you,” he proclaimed and studied the screen again. “Ghouls? Mummies? Werewolves?”

“Too itchy,” Daichi muttered. “Look, do we have to do this now?”

“I’m going away tomorrow for a week, or had you forgotten?”

Putting down his coffee, Daichi smirked. “Which is exactly why I’d rather be doing something else.”

“Really?” He glanced sideways, and then with an exaggerated sigh, he closed the laptop lid. “Early night?”

“Mmm.”

“Then you’ll have to sort out the costumes.”

“Is that all?”

Happily settling himself on Daichi’s lap, running his hands up Daichi’s arms, Suga leant into him, nuzzling his earlobe and breathing, “That’s all, but if all you do is drag out Santa and Mistoffelees, it will be Nightmare on Sugawara Street, got it?”

Daichi groaned as Suga started to glide his tongue along his neck. “Mmm, sure.”

***

 No matter how many times Suga told Daichi he was working, he could always sense the eye-rolling on the other end of the phone. It _had_ been a long week, entertaining at times, but also very busy. Suga worked for an advertising firm and the annual conference in the South was fun (they were staying in a five star hotel) but he wasn’t senior enough to enjoy all the perks and had spent most of his time in the evenings typing up pitches for new accounts.

“I’ll pick you up from the airport.”

“That would be great,” Suga said, trying not to yawn. Removing his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes, then gave up on editing and powered off the laptop.  He lay back on his bed. “Did you find costumes?”

“You still want to go then?”

“Yes! Of course I do. Daichi, please tell me you’ve done something about this?”

A chuckle reached his ears. “You think I’d risk the wrath of Koushi.”

“I’ll punch you for that alone.”

“Ha, not from there.”

He was still chuckling and Suga could almost feel the smile, feel those lips curving upwards as they touched his skin. “So, what did you get?”

“Wait and see.”

“Daichi, I _hate_ surprises,” he wailed.

“Tough.”His voice softened. “How are you, anyway?”

“Shattered,” Suga confessed. “Could you possibly get here in the next five minutes so I can curl up in your arms?”

“’Fraid I lent my Superman cape to Asahi. I could talk to you for a while,” Daichi murmured.

“How’s that going to help when your voice is so goddamn sexy?”

The laugh was back again. “I’ll tell you all about my day in the Patents Department. It’s very boring.”

“Bet it wasn’t.”

“Well,” Daichi confessed. “I found it fascinating, but patent law is generally believed to be even duller than contract law, and I know how much you hated it when I talked about that.”

Suga’s eyelids began to droop. “Didn’t hate it,” he said, not even bothering to stifle his yawn, “Love listening. Carry on.”

“A patent is a set of exclusive rights granted by a sovereign state to an inventor or assignee for a limited period of time in exchange for detailed public disclosure of an invention –”

“That’s nice,” Suga snuffled.

“Go to sleep. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“I know.”

Smiling at Daichi’s snort of laughter, Suga turned over, found a cool patch on his pillow and drifted into sleep.

He had a strange dream. Daichi was dressed in a suit, but wearing a very odd wig and they were at a party. It was Tooru’s party, that much he knew, but how he knew that, Suga wasn’t sure because it wasn’t in his swish apartment but a larger space. A familiar larger space, but not one he’d seen for several years. Sendai stadium, he realised in a flash as a sudden flurry of volleyballs and then an insistent chant ‘Go Go Let’s Go’ reached his ears. But it wasn’t Datekou he facing – the shirts were turquoise not teal. When he looked down, Suga saw he was in his volleyball shirt but nothing else. No one had noticed, but then he went to set the ball for Kageyama and as he leapt, the shirt rode up exposing his nakedness. As the ranks of Seijou laughed and the referee (who looked disturbingly like Ushijima)  glared, Daichi then swooped on court, still in his suit but now sporting a Superman cape, and flew out of the stadium with him.

“Take the wig off,” he said, but on ruffling Daichi’s hair, his actual hair disintegrated to reveal not Daichi rescuing him but – “Vice Principal! What are you doing here?”

He jerked awake, not in a cold sweat, but clutching his ribs in mirth. He wondered if he should tell Daichi, or whether Daichi was still too tortured by that wig to be able to joke about it.

***

Good as his word, Daichi was waiting at the airport. He’d even made a sign, holding it sheepishly in the air emblazoned with the legend ‘Sugawara Koushi’ with several exclamation marks, a heart and a smiley face.

A week apart. It had felt like a year, and yet as they exchanged goofy grins over the barrier, the distance and time melted between them.

“Good trip?” Daichi asked, taking the case.

“Food was good. Pool was fabulous when I could find time to use it. Bed was comfortable but far too big without you,” Suga replied, and crinkled up his nose. “Did not sleep well at all.”

“Do you want to can this par-”

Suga stopped him with a frown. “Nope. You’re not wriggling out of it that easily. Give me a shower, some coffee, and then I’ll be ready. I’m going to drink and dance myself into the ground, and you’re coming with me.”

“Good.”

He had a smirk on his lips. No, not really a smirk, it was just that he was pleased with himself, looking satisfied about something. Holding his tongue, Suga kept pace with Daichi as they trundled through towards the car park.  It was as he was getting out his wallet to pay for parking that something fluttered to the ground. Suga bent down to pick it up. It was a receipt, handwritten, and although he wouldn’t normally think twice about anything Daichi had bought, one word jumped out at him.

_‘Pirate’_

More precisely the receipt said _‘2 x Pirate Costumes.’_

His heart sank. _Pirates._ Daichi had picked possibly the most stupid thing ever. The sort of thing he’d worn as a seven year old. No, a five year old. His seven year old self would have scorned pirates as being for babies.

“What’s this?” he husked, his throat drying.

“Costumes,” Daichi replied, not even trying to deny it. “I told you I’d sort it out.”

“Pirates, huh?”

With the ticket in his mouth as he fished through his wallet for more yen, Daichi nodded. “Mmmhmm.”

“With cutlasses?”

“And eyepatches,” Daichi agreed, and if he saw the dangerous glimmer in Suga’s eyes, he paid it no heed. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we hit the rush hour traffic.”

 _Mr Mistoffelees it is,_ he thought wearily.

On the way back, as Daichi steered through the traffic, singing badly to the radio, throwing the odd smile, Suga’s mood lightened. Whatever happened, he was back with Daichi, a party to go to, and so what if the costumes were lame?

**< <Welcome back, Kou-chan. Still on for tonight?>>**

“It’s Tooru,” he explained, skimming through his messages.

**< <Yes. See you at 9 ish>>**

**< <Not going to be delayed after you catch up with Sawa-chan, then?>>**

**< <Ha!  Possibly>>**

**< <You do have costumes, don’t you?>>**

**< <Of course>>  **Maybe Tooru won’t remember last year.

**< <As long as Sawa-chan isn’t Saddo Claus.>>**

**< <No– of course not!>>**He scowled at the screen, feeling a fleeting irritation with Tooru.

“What does Oikawa want?” Daichi asked mildly.

“Just checking we’re going.”

“Fine.”  He slowed down to take a corner, checking his mirrors, before pulling up outside their apartment block. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

**< < I’m looking forward to dancing, Koushi!>>**

**< <See you there.>>** he typed, then turned to Daichi. “Look, Dai, these costumes.”

“Mmm.”

“Pirates ... _really?_ ”

Daichi’s face fell. The corners of his mouth actually turned downwards, and his jaw dropped. There was a sag to his shoulders and he began to twist his fingers together. He swallowed down what appeared to be tears, and gulped at the air.  “Is that bad?” he asked, his voice trembling.

And if Suga hadn’t been intimately acquainted with every aspect of Daichi’s persona, and also if he hadn’t been looking into his eyes, he’d have felt not only guilty but mortified he’d upset the one he loved so painfully.

“What’s going on?” he asked suspiciously. “Are you telling me you haven’t bought two pirate costumes?”

“Correct!” Daichi cheered and going round to the back of the car heaved out Suga’s case.

“DAICHI!  Will you tell me what you’ve done?”

“I have _hired_ two costumes.” He slammed down the boot door, possibly a little harder than he normally did.  “Which _you_ told me to sort out. It’s _not_ Santa, and it’s _not_ that cat thing. We’ll match ...sort of ... which I thought you’d like. But if that’s not good enough, then fine, I’ll let you sort it out while I stay here with my feet up and watch TV.”

_Oh fuck, he’s pissed now._

Or was he? Daichi sounded altogether too calm to be annoyed.

“Or,” he continued, “you could trust me.”

“I do.”

“You probably don’t, but how about you trust the fact that I did seek advice from the most clued in person we know when it comes to image. Who is also someone who can access props and great costumes.”

“Chikara?” _Brilliant!_

“Got it in one. He’s back in Tokyo and I called him three days ago. So now, _Kou-chaaan_ ,” he mewed in a hideous parody of Tooru, “will you calm the fuck down and get inside our apartment? We’re going to hit this party and be the best dressed there. Got that!”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Funny you should say that...” he trailed off, smirking infuriatingly.

 

Suga couldn’t get any more out of Daichi. After a quick coffee, he was frogmarched into the shower, and although he tried to pull Daichi in with him, his boyfriend resisted, wriggling away and telling him to be quick.

Sighing, he reached for the shower gel, lathering up and letting the hot water wash over him. Over the noise, he heard music rippling through to him, and a low rumble of a voice as Daichi sang along.

“I’m clean,” he called out, wrapping a towel around his waist and rubbing his hair with another. “Where are you?”

“Bedroom,” came back the answer, a little clipped. “You had a message. From Oikawa.”

“Important?”

“Five people have turned up as Cat Woman – he wants to make sure you’re not going as the same.”

“Did you reply for me?”

“Nope.”

Again, he was a little off, distant. His back to Suga, he unzipped a bag hanging over the door. “Okay, want to see if what I’ve got for you passes muster?”

“Dai...” Suga licked his lips. “Are you all right?”

“Mmm, why wouldn’t I be?”

“We can stay in if you’d rather?”

He half turned, casting a glance at Suga, his expression rueful. “And have Oikawa think I’m even more of a ‘saddo’?”

“Ah ... you read his message.”

“Yeah, didn’t mean to. Look ...” He turned fully. “It’s not a problem. You sit down, dry your hair, and I’ll get your costume ready.”

“So, we’re pirates!” Suga said, determined to be upbeat because when he thought about it, no one else would think of a costume this lame, so at least there’d be no duplicates.

“Ish!” As he turned, he grinned, a touch wickedly. “Think more glam than that.” And then with a flourish, and a ‘Ta-Da’, he pulled out the first item. “Long black velvet waistcoat.”

“Beautiful!” Suga peered closer. “Oooh, gold buttons. That’s fancy.”

“Yup. Frilly shirt.”

“Obviously. No pirate would be complete without one.”

“Bandana and cutlass,” Daichi continued, laying them out on the bed. “And also ...”

He pulled out a silver scarf, or rather, it looked like a scarf but it was a more like a feather boa, sparkling under the light. “This,” Daichi said, “is to drape round your neck. Or you could wear it as a belt, I guess.”

He stopped and then turned to the other bag. “I have a frock coat, a tricorn hat –”

“Why don’t I have a hat?”

“Because as you’re always telling me, I’m the Captain. You are  –” he paused, “- First Mate.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I,” Daichi said, with an air of a magician about to perform his next trick, “- have a _really_ frilly shirt and a big lace collar.”

“Very dashing.”

“And then these.” He held up a pair of trousers, or breeches, Suga thought, and a wide belt with a large silver buckle. “Chikara has some great contacts.”

“Mmm, he does.”

A vague disquiet had crept into his mind.

“Look at the plume in this hat,” Daichi continued, fingering a long black feather.

“Dai –” 

Reminding him of something.

“And I have some buckled shoes.”

“Dai!” 

That dream the other night.

“Oh, and also eyepatches. I have one for you as well, somewhere ...”

“DAICHI!”

He looked up from the bag. “Yep, what’s up?”

“Trousers. Where are mine?”

And there was a wink, and a glint in Daichi’s eyes. “No trousers. But in that bag in the corner...”

Suga followed his gaze, seeing a large bag, far too big for mere trousers. “Is?”

“Boots,” Daichi murmured, coming closer. “Over the knee. Leather. And just your size. There’s a pair of suede shorts, as well, and you can ... uh ... wear them with those stockings you wore with the cat costume.”

“Oh, Captain, I like the sound of those.”

“Mmm, thought you might.”  Chuckling he turned away, then whipping off his shirt, he bent down and picked up yet another carrier bag. “Before we get dressed though, we need to do something.”

Suga smirked. “Just how late are you intending to make us, Dai?”  he said, lying back on the bed and very subtly letting his towel slip. “Oh, you’re not.”

Daichi was examining something in his hands, looked up at Suga, then approached. “We have make up to apply.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my floofy haired first mate, because we are not only glamorous pirates, but we’re also glamorous _ghost_ pirates, so we need to be grey. And I have red lipstick, too. For blood”

“Blood? Ghosts are white.”

“Glamorous  Ghost Pirate _Ghouls,_ ” Daichi corrected and mock-scowled. “Now hold still because Ennoshita gave me a lesson, and I don’t want to mess this up.”

 

Daichi really had thought of everything. With powder in his hair, his normal sleek dark crop was grey under the faded red tricorn hat. The jet feather swirled around  the hat, a contrast to the white plume draping down the other side. In his frockcoat, breeches and white shirt, he looked the very epitome of a seventies rock star, haughty and sexual, the smudged lipstick on his mouth exaggerating their fullness.

“You look amazing,” Suga breathed.

“Eye patch?” Daichi asked, hiding a very pleased with himself grin as he looped it over his head.

“Mmm, and trail some blood under it so it looks like a scar.”

“Cool. Right, boots. Do you need a hand?”

“Right now, I think if you touched me, I’m going to rip those clothes off you and drag you into bed, so if we really want to go to this party -”

“Which we do.”

“I guess...”Consigning the thoughts of what he wanted to do to the handsome pirate in front of him to the back of his mind,  Suga burrowed inside the bag. The boots were of the softest black leather, fur lined, and fitting so snugly they could have been made for him.

“Kerrrist!” Daichi whispered, his voice hitching. “You. Look. Un-fucking-believable.”

Staring at himself in the mirror on the wall, unable to see the entire outfit, Suga took Daichi’s word for it - there was no way he could fake the unbridled lust in his eyes.  He picked up the bandana, palest blue and white and tied it not as a belt, but around his head, letting his hair flop rakishly across his eyes.

“Am I decent enough?” he murmured, gesturing to the expanse of thigh visible between the hem of the shorts and his fishnet stocking tops.

“Since when has that bothered you?” Daichi rasped. He stepped close, lips faintly puckered for a kiss, then paused.

“What are you waiting for?” Suga asked, surprised at the reticence.

Daichi kissed his own fingertip, then graced it on Suga’s lips. “I’m not smudging that lipstick ... Not yet.”

***

Tooru’s party was in full swing when they got there. As a pro volleyball player, and holder of several endorsements, the apartment he’d bought was spacious and set in one of the nicer parts of Tokyo. His party was the usual mix of schmoozers, fellow players and old friends – the oldest of which was standing in the hallway accepting coats (with a scowl, it had to be said) and pointing out where the drinks were.

Iwaizumi’s forehead did unfurrow on seeing them, and he whistled, then grinned. “Looking good. This all your idea, Suga?”

“Um no, Daichi sorted -”

“Anything other than Santa, right?” Iwaizumi laughed, slapping Daichi on the back.

“Oi!” Daichi retorted. “That’s a bit rich coming from the guy who’s wearing his Godzilla costume for the third year in a row.”

“Tradition,” Iwaizumi said, not the least insulted. “And it gets me out of dancing, so why would I change?”

“Poor Tooru,” Suga sighed.

“No, not ‘poor Tooru’, but lucky Tooru because he can dance with someone who likes dancing and is good at it,” Iwaizumi replied, and taking their coats, he wandered off.

 

As they walked into the main room, Suga noticed heads swivelling their way. Of course that wasn’t exactly unusual when a newcomer entered, but what was different was the way the eyes stayed on them, flicking equally from Suga to Daichi, and keeping up the perusal.

With his unusual colouring, Suga was the one who usually drew the eye. Whereas Daichi held attention in smaller, more intimate settings, he had this ability to be invisible at larger gatherings, taking a step back and letting Suga take the lead. For Suga, who once upon a time had suffered almost crippling anxiety because of his tendency to babble complete rubbish, knowing Daichi was ‘there’ gave him confidence. He could embark in conversation with complete strangers, secure in the knowledge that across the room, Daichi was present, and even if he wasn’t watching, there was an almost telepathic connection between the two that would see Daichi moving in to support him. 

It worked both ways. Handsome as he was, Daichi attracted his share of attention, and it was only Suga’s presence that would put off the most predatory of them.

“Koushi-chan, how delectable!” Tooru’s voice rang out to greet them from the opposite side of the room. Dressed in a black and maroon jumpsuit, hair darkened and twisted into a quiff, it was only the arrow badge on his chest that gave Suga any clue who he was.

“Star Trek?” he guessed. “Captain Picard?”

“Uh... he’d have to be bald for that, Sug,” Daichi replied. “Can’t imagine Oikawa wanting to cover up his hair.” He narrowed his eyes, taking in the costume. “No beard, although you could be first series Riker, but I’m guessing ...”

“Sci-fi nerds,” Suga said, making a show of yawning.”

“Go on,” Tooru said, his eyes glinting.

“Someone who suits your personality,” Daichi continued and laughed. “You’re Q, right?”

“I am indeed. Well done, Sawa-chan, no one else has a clue,” Tooru replied. He sauntered over, letting his arm trail across Suga’s shoulders, as he drank in Daichi’s outfit. “Wow ... my eyes are on stalks. You look positively decadent, _especially_ with that lipstick. How did you persuade him out of that smelly Santa costume, Koushi?”

“I didn’t. Daichi –”

“Make sure you tell me next year so I can use it on Iwa-chan,” Tooru breezed. He hadn’t stopped staring at Daichi, his gaze travelling up from the breeches to his chest and finally his face. “What a stunning transformation, but ... uh ...” He did a double take, now drawn to the top of Suga’s boots.  “How the hell did I not notice you, Kou-chan?  Those fishnets are ...” He fanned his face.  “You’re a lucky man, Sawa-chan.”

“I know.” Daichi smiled slightly, then reached across to a tray on the table, picking up two glasses of something fizzy. “For you, First Mate, and to you, Oikawa,” he said chinking their glasses. “Thanks for the invite.”

“No, you’re not drinking,” Tooru yelped, and removing Suga’s glass, he grabbed his wrist. “Dancing first.”

“But we’ve only just got here, and Daichi –”

“I’m fine,” he said, flapping his hand. “Go and dance. I’ll be here.”

“You could join us,” he replied, holding out his hand. “Come on, you’re a good dancer.”

Daichi shook his head. “Not this one.” He pulled Suga back to him. “A slow one. Later, I promise.”

“Aye, aye Captain,” Suga giggled, giving him a mock salute.

It wasn’t really a dance floor, merely an expanse of flooring where Tooru had rolled up the large rug and removed some furniture. And what Suga did on said dance floor, probably couldn’t be classed as dancing either. He loved music; he loved singing along to the songs he knew and then moving to the rhythm. He knew he flailed. He knew his feet had this habit of moving independent of any actual rhythm, but caught up in the beat, he genuinely didn’t care.  Tooru would catch his hand, draw him back to the centre when he careered too far away, and then he’d twist and spin and twirl, smiling as the rhythm pulsed within him.

“ _These boots are made for walking_ ,” Tooru sang during a lull at one point.

“ _One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you,_ ” Suga sang back, giggling.

“I wish you’d told me what you were wearing, then I’d have found that song and dedicated it to you.”

“I didn’t know. Daichi surprised me when I got back tonight.” He span around. “Good, eh?”

“Sawa-chan is really coming into his own. He looks a lot more comfortable in himself,” Tooru said, sounding astonished. He blew a kiss to the corner of the room, the corner Suga knew Daichi was standing in. “You’re a good influence. Or maybe a bad influence.”

But before Suga could deny he was any such thing, to voice his opinion that Daichi had always been comfortable in his skin (unlike Tooru who often seemed to be striving for some unreachable dream) the music started up again, blaring loudly. And this time, Tooru linked his fingers into Suga’s tugged him even closer and pouted a kiss on his cheek.

There was a frisson between them, Suga knew that, but strangely, the electricity was only there in public. Alone, the pair of them would sit and chat, sip hot chocolate or sake, and laugh over dumb sit-coms, but with everyone around them, they bonded – even if it were just on the dance floor.

He glanced over to the table; Daichi was there, now talking to a ghost bride, her dress jacked in tight with a bodice, revealing high rounded breasts and a cobweb for a veil. Her hand had strayed to Daichi’s shoulder, brushing off some dust. As if drawn by the intensity of Suga’s gaze, Daichi looked straight at him, tipping his head and giving a wink.

“Bride-chan won’t get a look in with you here,” Tooru murmured in Suga’s ear. “Stop worrying.”

“I’m not.” He smiled, hoping it didn’t look weak, then asked casually, “Who is she?”

“Kindaichi’s older sister. Remember him?”

“Yes. I didn’t know you were still in touch.”

“He’s joined the team, didn’t I say?  Look, he’s over there.”

“Lurch?” Suga peered through the gloom, recognising the Adams Family character.

“No, that’s Aone-kun. Yuutarou is the pumpkin.”

“Sweet!”

“Yes, he is. I admired his green tights and he blushed a very becoming pink. Lord knows what he’ll do if Iwa-chan talks to him.”

His hand had drifted to Suga’s chest, caressing the boa between his fingers. “Did Sawa-chan really choose this for you?”

“He had a little help from Ennoshita, but, yes, everything was his idea.”

Tooru moued his mouth, dropping one soft kiss on Suga’s temple. “He knows what you look good in, Koushi-chan. And now that I’ve had my dance, I really should socialise, while you rescue him from Bridezilla.”

The usual Sugawara rescue plan was that he’d glide up to Daichi, smile and ask to be introduced, to break up any unwelcome conversation. On the whole, whichever man or woman stood there chatting Daichi up, would either take the hint or be so enchanted by Suga, he or she would switch their attention then realise they had no chance with either of them. It was a scheme that had served them well for over five years, and Suga expected much of the same as he approached.

But this time Daichi stepped away from the girl. He’d put down his drink, and slipped his arm around Suga’s waist, his hand trailing down to stroke his arse.

“Is she that persistant?” Suga hissed, not exactly displeased with this development, but Daichi was usually far more reticent.

“Huh?”

“Your fangirl.”

“Uh ... no, not at all. She remembered seeing us play at school, that’s all.  Turnip-head’s sister or cousin, or something. I just ...” He swung around, his body flush to Suga’s. “Can we go?”

“Already?”

“Somewhere else, I mean. Just ...” Daichi gulped. “Do you know how fucking hot you looked on that dance floor? I could not stop looking, even though she was talking about that last match against Seijou.”

Suga shimmied closer. They touched, and Daichi’s eyes closed as Suga’s wrist brushed against his erection. “I can tell,” he replied, and smirked. “That’s what happens when you don’t let me have my wicked way with you after a week away.”

“You’re not exactly helping dancing like that and now being this close,” he whispered.

“I suppose we could go home,” he murmured, a little reluctantly.

“Not sure I’ll last. We’ll be arrested for public indecency.”

A thrill running through him, Suga gripped Daichi’s wrist, then without looking at anyone else, he tugged him through the party throng. Tooru’s apartment was large, and he’d been to enough parties to know just where Hajime dumped the coats.

The smallest bedroom, and a futon piled high with cushions and coats, Suga kicked the door shut behind them then lifted his hands to drape around Daichi’s neck.

In his boots, he was taller, and he laughed as he tilted Daichi’s chin in his hands and began a kiss that quickly degenerated from a soft preliminary to something harder, passionate, teeth clashing then a biting of lips as they tore into each other.

“Fuck.” Daichi pulled away.

“I missed you,” Suga groaned, and tried to pull him back.

“You were enjoying yourself back there, weren’t you?” Daichi muttered, resisting.

“Dancing? Mmm, I was.”

“Everyone was watching, you know that?”Daichi began to nuzzle Suga’s neck, teeth nipping at his earlobe. “Do you like that?”

 _Oh, where’s this come from?_ he thought, feeling his face flame.  “I know _you_ were.”

“You barely looked at me.”

“I could feel your eyes boring into me, Captain.”

“That so?”

“Yeah.” He slipped his hands around Daichi’s waist, fingers slipping under the frock coat, thumbs linking into his belt. “Was it me or Tooru you were watching?” he whispered.

“What do you think?” His voice was coming out in pants, his hips pressing into Suga, shifting up a little to increase the pressure.

“I think ...”Suga whispered, his palm opening to spread across the front of Daichi’s leather breeches. “I think that you were watching us both.”

There was no answer. Daichi had tipped his head back, exposing his neck.

“I think,” Suga repeated, nuzzling, “that you _like_ watching. Pictures develop in your mind, and you like imagining, Daichi, what could happen.”

“Fuck.”

“Maybe ...” He pressed up against him, grinding their crotches together. “Maybe you get off on thinking about other men.”

“No, it’s always you,” he insisted, not defensive but adamant.

“Hmm? Are you sure?” Suga teased.  Daichi was rock hard, painfully so, Suga knew, so taking a _little_ pity on him, he stopped rubbing and with deft fingers unbuckled Daichi’s belt. “Fantasies are allowed, Captain. And unlike problems –” he undid the breeches, letting them slide to the floor  “- a fantasy shared is ... uh ... doubled.”

A shaky breath then tore at Daichi’s lungs as Suga grasped his cock.

“Tell me,” he ordered, his movements slowing.

“I watched you dance back there,” he groaned. “Oikawa kissing you.”

“You know it’s nothing, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah ... Ohhh.” He groaned as Suga gripped harder, increasing the pace.

“But? What are you thinking, Daichi? What’s going on in your head?”

“We’re strangers.”

“Mmm?”

 “You’re smiling up at Oikawa, he’s pouting his lips. He’s closer, your bodies almost touch. And... I’m watching,” he muttered, his voice ragged. “I can see everything. But it’s a show, just for me and ... and I don’t give a _fuck_ about him, but I love watching you.” Daichi jerked away; his hand wrenched at Suga’s shorts. “I hear you moan.”  He leant up against Suga, pressing him into the door, and muffled his mouth against Suga’s neck - his voice hoarse and hesitant.  “And your hand is on your leg. Your fingers slip into your stocking top, tweaking it down and I can see that mole on your inner thigh.”

“Go on,” Suga implored, feeling excitement mount inside him.

Daichi’s thumb grazed his thigh, smoothing over the mole and he continued, soft but insistent, the shakiness had steadied, leaving the familiar low rowl dusting Suga’s senses. “I move in.”

“Oh... yes.” Now he could see it clearly. The music thumping out its beat, the dancers moving around them, and Daichi holding him close, his hands roving his body. And his mouth, the lipstick smudging as he nuzzled first Suga’s neck and then moved downwards to his chest (which was unaccountably bare, his shirt slipping off his shoulders).

“I’m pressing against you and you’re desperate,” Daichi was saying. “Hard as rock. Painful.  You need this, but you don’t want it to end.” The fingers of his other hand bit into Suga’s arse and one of them slipped downwards, circling the whorl of his anus.

 “Fuck.” He winced as Daichi stabbed his finger inside.  “We need lube.”

“You want to do this here? I could just suck -”

“No, I want you inside me.”

Relinquishing him with a smirk, Daichi reached into an inside pocket, pulling out a condom and a tube. He unscrewed the top with his teeth, then drenched his fingers before returning to Suga. “Where were we?”

Delighted at Daichi’s preparation, Suga touched their foreheads together. “You were telling me your fantasy, Captain.”

“Ah, yeah.” His finger swirled, slipping inside much easier now. “How was I doing?”

But as Daichi began to jab, Suga’s head span and the movie he’d conjured, pixilated until all he was aware of was Daichi’s breath on his neck, the second slick finger scissoring inside of him.

Shortly after, his pants joined the shorts on the floor. Suga stood in front of Daichi, his hips at an angle, and draped the silver feather boa across Daichi’s shoulders.  As Daichi pushed him back on the bed, he lay sprawled on the coats and cushions, crooking his legs as he pulled Daichi down.

He smiled. “Shall I take off the boots?”

“Don’t. You. Dare!”

It was rough and desperate, their need tipping into greed as Daichi thrust hard inside. Winding his leather clad legs round Daichi’s waist, Suga dug his heels into Daichi’s arse, urging him on with whispers, low moans, and clenched fists in Daichi’s hair.

And the only thing on his mind now was _Daichi, Daichi, Daichi_.

As Daichi rode him, Suga bucked his hips, feeling the familiar pressure building inside, the pressure to finish at odds with the desperation for this never to end. He was on the edge, screwing up his eyes to delay the moment, to not dive head first over that cliff.

Daichi came abruptly, a series of short jerks and quivering and collapsed, his weight heavy. He rolled off and out, his arm slung around Suga’s waist.

“Fuck, I’m sorry!”he said at last when his breath had got back to normal.

“What for?”

“I tried to hold on, but those fucking boots turn me on far too much. Koushi, you are way too hot for me.”

“That good, eh?”

“Mmm, and now let me make up for the fact that your boyfriend can’t hold on for long enough for you to come and ...” He peeped at Suga from over a particularly fluffy coat, a blush appearing underneath the sweat and makeup. “Unless you’d rather we finished this on the dance floor.”

“Come here!” Suga ordered, pulling Daichi back. “Fantasy is great, but reality is ... fantastic.”

At that, Daichi grinned, smacked his lips together and headed south. With a flick his tongue and then a nuzzle of teeth, he started to suck, long and languorously, clamping Suga in place until he jerked to climax.

***

“You realise our lipstick is now non-existent,” Suga said when they emerged.

“Mmm, and your foundation’s flaking,” Daichi muttered, smoothing his thumb under Suga’s eye, then trailed down to his jaw. “Does it bother you that they will know exactly what we’ve been up to?”

“Not in the slightest. It bothers me more that we have to return these boots. They’re so comfortable, I could sleep in them.”

He stopped, meaning to adjust his stocking, but Daichi forestalled him, straightening the stocking top and taking the chance to run his fingertips inside his boot. His lips twitched. “Good job I bought them then, isn’t it?”

“You didn’t!”

“Mmm, I did.” He laughed softly and nipped Suga’s ear. “I agree with you about fantasies, but I like making some of them a reality.”

He linked arms with Suga, leaning into him as they meandered down the small hallway and back to where the music played.

Tooru was dancing. He’d managed to grab Iwaizumi, was holding his tiny Godzilla arms and laughing at his grumpy expression. 

“Koushi!” he yelled. “Thank goodness you’re here. I need my dance partner before this dinosaur treads on my toes again.”

“Fine by me,” Iwaizumi declared, trying to stomp off but the restrictions of the costume caused him to waddle instead and he stumbled into Daichi.

“Thanks,” he muttered as Daichi righted him.

“Take him away, Sawa-chan, and tell him all about your stunning conversion to style icon. Maybe next year he’ll take the hint,” Tooru said, and reached out for Suga. “Meanwhile, I can dance with this luscious pirate again.”

“Ready for round two?” Suga whispered, turning his head to Daichi as he fought the urge to giggle.

“Rather just cut to the best bit,” Daichi replied, one side of his mouth quirking up.

And then the music changed, a slower song lilting in the air,

_‘Back to life, back to reality.’_

And Daichi wound his arm around Suga, resting his hand on the jut of his hip and he smiled at Tooru. _“However do you want me,”_ he crooned, almost in tune. _“However do you need me.”_

The he grinned, and tugged Suga closer, pressing a kiss on his lips.  “Sorry, Oikawa, Captain’s prerogative and all that, but it’s my turn to dance with the First Mate.”

 

* * *

 

The artwork which inspired this story is by zariyen on tumblr and is [here](http://zariyen.tumblr.com/image/152150858365). 


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